Won't You Linger A Little Longer
by tahtiiawnuhFF
Summary: It's not just werewolves that have a keen sense of smell. There's one that's troubling Stiles Stilinski to the bone, leaving him restless. But will it get in the way of him fighting baddies and kicking supernatural butt? No chance in hell. He's going to need some chance though due to some Alpha pooches coming for them. But for whom? Read on to find out. RATED M FOR FUTURE PLOTS.
1. That Sweet Cinnamon

_It was the middle of the night, the moon shining through the window just barely when the scent of something sweet... yet.. tangy suddenly perked the boy's nostrils, waking him from his slumber momentarily. It didn't matter if he didn't have keen senses like a handful of his friends, the lanky individual could smell the wafting aroma from a mile away. That spicy but almost warming smell; it was so familiar but he couldn't place it in his drowsy stupor as he blinked his eyes and sat up marginally in the moonlight. He couldn't remember where he'd smelled it before, not did he have time to dwell on it, for as suddenly as it came, it evaporated, gone without a trace in the air. He frowned, and from an outsider's point of few, they could see the small pout forming on his lips as he flopped back down onto his bed in defeat._

_Turning and rolling around in his sheets, he nosed into his pillow, falling into the warmth and comfort of his bed that eventually lulled him back to sleep. When he woke up a few hours later and started getting ready for school, he couldn't shake that certain feeling of longing that rumbled in the pit of his stomach, unsure as to why it was even there in the first place. _

_Knowing himself, he just shrugged it off for now and chalked it up to being hungry, unable to recall that blissful perfume that had assaulted his senses._

* * *

That was how it first began. The first time he had ever been really introduced to that smell. Perhaps not introduced, but made aware of it. Days passed and he paid that feeling no heed, everything normal as ever. He almost forgot that empty feeling was foreign to him in the first place. Almost got used to it.

Almost.

He was tapping his pen in Chemistry about a week after that first happenstance, watching Harris glare at him as he spoke. He knew they were words, but it really was all just background noise really, garbled into one monotone sound that left him unwilling to care at all. Stiles groaned and sat up, attempting to feign attention as he rested his head on his hand. It's not like he didn't _want _to pay attention… He just… Already knew it. Already understood it. And it didn't help that Harris made the content worse than stale beer. As his attention drifted though, so did his eyes, allowing them to slide shut for a moment.

Only a moment.

And then he caught whiff of it again, shooting his eyes open and looking around frantically for the source of that potent hot scent. But again, it was fleeting, ignited something inside him but was immediately put out. Leaving him again with that needy feeling gnawing him from within.

A hard dig of an elbow broke him out of his spastic trance. He turned and came face to face with a questioning look from Danny, sizing him up with a raised brow and eying him as he did so. Stiles merely coughed and smiled, trying his best to act cool as he ran his hand through the back of his hair.

"You okay, dude?" the tanned, taller boy asked under his breath. He could feel Scott glancing at him, knew his ears were perked and zoning in on their conversation.

Stiles just scoffed and waved a hand nonchalantly. "Yeah! Great. Never better," he squeaked, voice deceiving his words and he just put one of his thumbs up, nodding and shrugging awkwardly. "Are you, Danny? You look a little pale. Need to go tanning? We can go sometime. Maybe this weekend."

He could almost feel Scott rolling his eyes. Danny just gave him an off look and furrowed his brows, nodding and leaving it alone.

Harris had turned from what he was writing on the board and was about to reprimand them for talking, but the bell rang just in time. Stiles let out a sigh of relief, and while he already was one to bolt out of classes on the regular, he definitely sprinted faster than normal out of this one and down the hall and straight to the locker rooms.

* * *

Scott left class with a confused look on his face, eager to get to practice and talk to Stiles about what had just happened. As he made his way to the gym, still slightly curious about Stiles's frenzy in the Chem lab, he saw Allison at her locker though, engrossed in pulling her books out. The boy walked up to her unnoticed, smiling widely as he did so.

Wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, she giggled out of shock but soon relaxed into his hold. Placing a soft kiss on her shoulder, he nosed into her neck and smiled. The smile faltered though, catching a different smell on her than normal. Her scent was very particular and stood out to him out of all that he'd ever had the fortune of knowing. It was soft, delicate, clean, but most of all just very _Allison_. But there was something else lingering on her. Another smell that left him curious, mainly because it was a new smell. Yet, completely familiar at the same time. And it bothered him.

Sighing, he furrowed his brows, pulling back a bit. "You smell different."

"Hm? Well I did get a new perfume… Do you like it?" she replied, smiling with those brilliant teeth that always got him distracted as he hoisted his backpack up on his shoulder.

"Yeah, that's probably it. It was just… different," he said with a light shrug, grinning and looking at her with those puppy dog eyes. "I like you in general, though," he whispered against her ear.

The tall brunette merely giggled again and turned fully, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him down into a soft kiss. Before he could react though, a booming call came from down the hall.

"_MCCALL! PRACTICE! YOU'RE LATE!" _said a familiar voice and he just groaned, pulling away from Allison reluctantly. His eyes showed his love for her without having to say a thing as she blew him a kiss goodbye. Turning, and following like a little lost dog after his Econ teacher, he waved at his girlfriend.

Allison just shook her head and chuckled, closing the locker door behind her and left the school soon after.

* * *

Stiles had changed and was already ready by the time Scott came into the locker rooms, sitting on one of the benches, inspecting his hands with a furrowed brow as he looked up to see his friend walk in, followed by a very pissed off coach. Well, then again, when didn't he look pissed off?

The gangly boy just smiled his patented goofy grin at his best friend. It was enough to get Scott to just shrug it all off, for now, at least. Which was good enough for him, hoping that practice would deter Scott's easy distracted mind away from the subject.

Because in retrospect, things were fine, Stiles was fine. It was just that awakening scent that made him off kilter, left him on edge. Ever since his mother had passed away... Ever since his father started d-… Well, so many things… Stiles never really found himself able to breathe. That scent was like he had taken a deep breath of life for the first time in a long time.

It left him confused.

It left him worried.

It left him wanting it again. To be able to understand it. Be able to decipher it.

Stiles was clever, cracked the codes, did all the background work. Everyone knew that. But he made people forget, made people only associate laughter and idiocy with his name. It was easier that way. But Stiles was always a curious kid, wanting to figure all the puzzles out.

And this puzzle left him stumped so far.

Brushing it all off, he let practice invade his mind. For the first time in a while he actually paid attention to what he was doing as they made it out onto the field and started their drills.

Fifteen minutes in, he'd made thirteen goals and plays left and right. Laughing and jumping up and down, he fist pumped the air, shocking everyone around him. Again they had forgotten his potential. He had won a game singlehandedly recently without any werewolf help all. For him that counted more than anything, not that anyone would take that into consideration. He didn't mind though, good ol' Stiles was used to it. Come to think of it, he'd put it on himself, really.

As he settled down from his whoops, he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. Eyes were on him. Werewolf eyes, to be exact. He knew the feeling all too well. Piercing, like it was cutting through his soul and into his very person. This time though it was a pair and they were glaring. Glistening green and those familiar amber eyes. Jackson and Scott. Sure, this was out of character of him and he normally messed around in practice. It wasn't a crime to want to actually participate once in a while, as far as he was concerned, _especially _after that winning game.

It was Danny who was first to speak, pulling off his helmet and shaking his head.

"Whoever prescribed you the fucking Ritalin, tell them it's working," he quipped, making everyone on the team start to roar in laughter suddenly, breaking the slab of awkward that had graced the lacrosse field.

Stiles, himself, just shrugged and was glad he had his helmet on. If he didn't everyone would have seen the bright blush that had erupted onto his cheeks.

There was one other pair of eyes watching that he hadn't accounted for though, gazing a ways away in admiration.

* * *

"Dude, what's gotten into you?" Scott finally asked after practice as they were walking to Stiles's jeep, both with their lacrosse sticks in hand along with their backpacks and dufflebags full of gear. Unlocking the car, Stiles hopped in and opened Scott's side for him as he slid inside.

Stiles just shrugged and winked over at him, smiling as they threw their junk in the back of his car and settled inside. "Felt like spicin' it up, I guess." _Spice._ That smell. It was definitely a spice. Maybe. "Show the awesome that is _Le Stiles,_" he retorted, both slamming the doors shut and putting on their seatbelts.

It seemed enough for Scott. He wasn't as perceptive as most. And that benefitted Stiles all the same. Had the roles been reversed, Stiles would have called his friend out on his bullshit immediately. Luckily for him, that wasn't the case.

Besides, if Stiles were to explain, it would make him look insane. _Oh you know, this one smell I've smelled twice made me feel happier than I have in a while…_ Yeah that would go swimmingly. Then again, Scott's told him much weirder. He'd postpone it for now though. Until he got more information on the source of his current predicament, he agreed to himself silently as he pulled out of the school's parking lot and got on the road.

Blasting the music, he grinned over, throwing thoughts of the silly aroma out the window and instead focusing on being free. "Free at last, thank God almighty! We are _free at last!"_ he yelled over at Scott and his best friend, whooping and calling out, rolling down the windows as they both rejoiced in the fact that it was the weekend.

Wind rushing, he turned over to his friend as his shoulders relaxed, stress leaving him immediately. "Oh hey! We're going out tonight. I got it all planned out. Allison and Lydia are coming. Which means Jackson will be there. And then that means Danny will too… Which means maybe some lacrosse dudes too, not sure," the flippant boy said, smiling gleefully as he fist pumped along to the song.

"Sick! I'll ask my mom. Like bowling, club, or house party?" Scott asked, enthusiasm growing as he bobbed his head to the catchy Top Hits song.

Stiles just shrugged, one hand tapping along to the beat on the steering wheel. "I left that up to Lydia. We're all just gonna meet up there. It'll be awesome no matter what."

The tan male just nodded emphatically, laughing loudly. His smile was cut short though as a swift incoming scent sliced immediately though as he perked up, looking around, sensing danger. It pricked in the air starkly, like a stench as he contorted his face and finally spotted the source of it.

"Stiles, watch out!" Scott called out just, pointing at the figure in front of them that had practically popped out of nowhere.

"Oh SHIT!" the other boy let out, slamming on the breaks, he closed his eyes and prayed to the beings up above for a miracle. The tires shrieked in protest as they skidded to a halt a mere inch from the muscular scruffy man that had stopped them in their tracks.

Breathing in and out, Stiles turned to Scott whose eyes had flashed to that brilliant yellow hue. Getting out of the car and slamming the door, Stiles walked all the way up to Derek.

"What the _HELL_ were you thinking!" the boy screamed, flailing his arms over his head like a mania and jumping in the air slightly. "You could have killed MY BABY!" he squealed as gestured with both arms over at his vehicle.

"I wanted you to stop," the Alpha said simply, glancing over at Stiles calmly, forcing himself not to roll his eyes.

"You know," he started, pointing an accusatory finger at him as he put a hand on his hip. "They invented this really cool thing called a cell phone. It's really handy actually. You can send texts and use it to you know, make ca—" But before he could finish though a strong hand had him pinned to the front of the jeep, Derek Hale looming over him.

"Stop talking," he growled, his face and inch away from the younger boy's, arm pressing down on his throat. Stiles just kicked a little and squirmed.

"You know I've never really been very good at that but because you asked so nicely I think I'll—"

Derek only growled again and bared his teeth at the human, making Stiles whimper and snap his mouth shut.

"What do you want, Derek?" Scott called out from behind the older male. "And where's Peter."

Derek let Stiles go and he dropped down. "He's away."

The boy just caught himself and cleared his throat, dusting himself off. "I'm fine. The one that just almost got mauled by a frickin werewolf. I'm okay, Scott. Thanks for your concern," he scoffed, running his hand through his hair and licking his lips as he looked from one to the other, hands back on his him.

The beta just rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning to look at Derek expectantly. "Get in the car and we'll talk once we get home."

The wolf glared but nodded, knowing Scott wanted to make sure that no one overheard what they had to talk about. Stiles narrowed his eyes at the silent verbalizations going through, shaking his head. "Whatever, you guys have your secret eye chats where you just look at each other and know what the other is thinking. I'll be over here tending to Rosie. Isn't that right, baby, yeah. Let's not listen to the mean wolfies trying to hurt you, okay?" he mumbled to his old beat up car that had gone through so much with them, putting his face to the hood of it, caressing it softly with his hand.

Walking past him, Derek smacked the back of his head, making Stiles glare. "I could just leave you here!" he called out, turning back at him.

"Not likely," Derek called back, opening the door and jumping into the back seat, Scott following suit and getting back in in the front.

Grumbling, Stiles begrudgingly got into the vehicle and continued on his path home with their new traveler to toe.

* * *

Caution ebbed at Stiles as he rolled up to his house. Thankfully though, they reached his place just in time to miss his father leave for the night shift, getting in and locking up the entire place for extra security. It was quick as Derek spilled them the news, Scott now rubbing his temples on the couch, while Derek leaned up against the fireplace. Stiles couldn't stand still with this new found information, so he did what he always did and paced, arms crossed with his hand on his lip as he concentrated. The room was sound proof, thanks to wit and quick thinking of good ol' Stiles. A thought that came to him one night to make a guarded room with that ancient whatever powder stuff that Stiles had gotten from Scott's vet boss dude, and it had finally come in handy.

After some deliberation and his mind settled, Stiles stood still. "So you mean to tell me… That three giant Alphas are after us. And Erica and what's his face are with them…" Stiles reiterated, looking up at Derek and making a point to be extremely clear.

Derek peered up carefully and blinked slowly. "More or less," he said distantly, crossing his arms.

"That's it. We're gonna die. We're seriously going to die," he said nonchalantly, shrugging and letting his arms fall. "Scott, you can have my comic book collection. Derek you can have… Um. What exactly do you like other than scowling and growling?..."

Ignoring him, Derek turned to Scott. "I already told Jackson after practice. Probably the most interesting practice I've seen by far," the broad in his classic black shirt recalled, flicking his eyes back Stiles and raising an eyebrow. Stiles flushed at the insinuation and fought the embarrassment rushing through him.

"You saw that? Pfff! That was nothing. I wasn't even in my prime. But _see_ what you can do without frickin wolfie fangs or whatever, eh, eh? Am I right, or am I _right," he retorted, giving them both pointed looks with his arms crossed, his jean jacket bunching up._

"I never said it was a bad practice," Derek drawled, blinking slowly at him and soon enough… smirking? It was fleeting though, and in the moment he blinked, it was gone as Derek switched onto more serious matters. "Anyway. Your statement was somewhat false, Stiles. They're... not after a group of people. They're.. Well. They're after one person."

At this Scott sat up and Stiles took a step forward, now more intrigued than ever. "Who?" the two younger boys asked in unison.

Derek just clenched his jaw and unclenched it. Stiles knew that face, that key twitch that he had no idea in the world. The Alpha scowled at himself more than anyone, and Stiles knew that the older male hated admitting that he didn't have all the answers.

"He doesn't know. Dammit, Scott. We're screwed. Better call tonight off and figure a way out of this mess. How much time do we have until they get here?" Stiles asked, letting his arms fall again as he checked his watch.

Derek just stood still and didn't answer, frustration flooding off him in waves, as Stiles gazed over at Scott, his nostrils flared, probably smelling it from where he was seated. Returning the look, the beta just sighed and gulped. "They're already in town, bro. That's… why Peter's hiding."

Swallowing hard, Stiles face blanched as he made a face of approval. "Yep. We're doomed," he said, nodding and plopping down on the couch next to Scott, sordidly accepting his fate.


	2. Abilities and Memories

The plans had been moved to next week, far too long of a postponement for it to be condonable, at least from Stile's perspective. "You know once in a while I'd like to be a normal teenager and be able to enjoy a night on the town, and not focus on the fact that there are probably stupid wolves about to come and get some stupid revenge on us or something, but noooo. Stupid Derek had to just go and make everything stupid, because he's stupid," he murmured to himself as he glared at the wall, bouncing a stupid lacrosse ball over the stupid railing.

"Stupid," Stiles mumbled under his breath, sulking on the stairs of the giant manor as he kicked and toyed with the fire sensitive wooden pegs that lined the stairwell. Scott was somewhere in the house doing something with Derek or whatever, sighing and extending his leg out further, nearly snapping the wood in half.

A blunt object hit the back of his head though, probably a rock or some of the ruins of the Hale house they were currently in. "Not cool, dude! You just lost me my brain cells!" he called out, looking around for the source of the projectile.

"That only works if you have a brain," the wolf growled back, the man obviously losing his patience quicker by the second as he walked by with chairs for the others to sit on in the other room. "Now quit messing with the stairs. They're fragile enough already," he added as he walked back after setting down the chairs, turning and stopping as he sniffed around for a moment.

Grumbling and rubbing the back of his head, Stiles smiled suddenly when he heard the door creak open, seeing some familiar faces. Ah, that's that Derek was sniffing the air. It was Allison whom stepped through first and into the ramshackle house along with Jackson, and Lydia.

"Took you guys long enough, busy gelling your hair Princess? And I don't mean the girls," Stiles greeted, waving happily at them as he sat up. Jackson just flipped him off and Lydia smirked softly, trying to hide it, as they passed by him, as Allison waved and giggled lingering behind the group. Following suit, he turned back to tell Allison to hurry up.

As Stiles glanced behind him though, he noticed something… odd, as she went over to Derek without a problem. Even odder, the older male smiled down at her, patting her cheek gently once. Almost like you would a little sister. Stiles was about to say something but it was too quick. So much so that it had gone unnoticed by the others, all of their attentions elsewhere.

And when he looked over, Scott came from behind her as she settled against him, as if it never had happened.

Rubbing his eyes, he almost felt like he was going crazy. Seeing hallucinations. That was weird, furrowing his eyebrows. A puzzle piece out of place as his mind began ticking at a mile a minute, looking down and licking his lips in thought.

"Can we get to the point please?" said the ever exasperated blonde male, turning around once they were all in the same area as he put his hands on his hips, his leather jacket rustling as he moved.

Derek narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, speaking in his low register yet quite clearly and standing tall as he loomed over all of them, his voice even. "As you all know, the Alphas are around," he began, looking around as Allison and Lydia took their seats, looking at him intently. "They haven't shown up yet and I don't know why but we have to stay vigilant. I don't know which one of us they want but it is someone in this room. Plus one other."

"Well what do they want with us?" Lydia asked in her calculated tone, leaning forward with those pouty lips parted, meaning she was exceedingly concentrated. Stiles almost expected her to pull out a pad of paper to take notes.

"That's what I brought you all here for," Derek announced, looking pointedly at each and every one of them, his coal black eyes making contact with every pair in the room. "To brainstorm. Why do you think they'd want you?" he said, as if he was giving them a pop quiz, his chest puffed out, hands behind his back.

"Well Lydia's immune. So that's a good reason to want to take her," Jackson commented, crossing his arms from where he stood by Derek. Lydia just smacked his leg and rolled her eyes from her seated position, crossing her legs as she fussed with her nails. "What?" he retorted, looking down at her and then the group as if to ask if asked anything wrong. "It's true, isn't it?" Jackson continued, looking back down at her, shaking his head and shrugging it off.

Derek peeked over at them and then back at the group, nodding curtly. "Good. What else?" he asked, staring at the others expectantly.

"Taking Allison would turn the tables. Being the werewolf hunter's daughter and all," Stiles offered, nervous about getting it wrong as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, biting on his thumb nail as he looked around, eyes flicking back to Derek every few seconds.

There were nods all around, and a blink of a approval from Derek. It was good enough for him, smiling small as others started to pitch in.

"Well. Jackson's easily swayable, unfortunately. They could torture him for information on us," Scott spat from the spot he was standing behind Allison's chair, evident skepticism in his eyes as he regarded the other beta.

"Excuse me? Are you saying I'm not trustworthy?" the attractive male spoke evenly, words biting as he stepped forward, that emerald green hue glittering in his blue orbs.

Scott stepped forward, his own eyes glowing that sudden amber glistening bright in his eyes as he advanced toward him. "Well seeing as the only person you care about is you—"

"Enough," Derek commanded steadily as he stepped in between the two wolves, voice so low it made the floorboards rumble, the strength of it reverberating into everyone's bones. "The last thing we need to be doing is fighting within our own pack."

"We're a pack?" Stiles asked suddenly, trying to blink away his confusion. He'd never… Was he really.. part of this? This entire thing?

"Yes. Human or not. You're all too close. Bonded and intertwined into it to not be. I'm getting tired of guessing. Scott you're right. As it stands right now, Jackson would say anything to save his own ass. Unless it harmed Lydia," he began. Jackson opened his mouth to retort but Derek stared him down and dared him to try and fight that logic. His pearly whites snapped back shut immediately.

Nodding, Derek stood tall again and kept speaking. "They'd want me because I'm already an Alpha. They'd want Scott because he's kind hearted. He'd surrender himself and do what they please if it meant all the rest of his friends would be spared. And Stiles…"

All eyes fell onto the short haired boy. "What? Can't think of anything? Y-Yeah… Neither could I. Guess that's a good thing," he said with a half grin. As much as it should have relieved him… It didn't. He looked down, a sharp pang formed in his stomach, making that sense of longing and loneliness even stronger inside him. It was moments like these that left Stiles wondering why he even bothered at all, scuffing his foot and chewing the inside of his lip as his shoulders fell slightly.

Derek just stood there, unable to speak. Unable to really say anything, staring blankly at the deflated boy.

Allison walked over slowly though from her seat and cupped his face, bringing it up so she could catch his eyes. "They'd want him for clever wit. Who said Alphas can't laugh?" she teased, making him smile and look back down shyly.

"Have you met Derek Hale?" he retorted back, everyone snorting at his response. Even Derek. Well, there you have it. Natural talent.

Closing his eyes, he shook his head as Allison linked arms with him and tugged him along. "Is that all, Derek?" she asked, turning over to him.

The Alpha nodded and crossed his arms. "Everyone just be on your toes." The pack nodded and took their turn to leave, shuffling out one by one.

Allison offered her free arm to Lydia and smiled, her black hair braided in two clean braids. Lydia took it and grinned back, head high as she flicked her hair behind her shoulder.

Once they were far enough away, Derek made sure to speak clearly as he whispered the words only meant for his fellow werewolves, knowing they'd hear him even as they were walking away.

"Stay together. All of you. I'll be close by. Howl if you need anything," he murmured, watching them glance back to let him know they heard him.

There was more he wanted to say, but then again, Derek was never really good with words.

* * *

_The tall girl had her headphones in, donned in her workout clothes. Sweat shimmered against her skin, dripping down her reddened face. Jogging up to her door, she wiped her face of with her arm and opened the door and stepping in._

_Taking off her little sweater and hanging it up, she stretched and blew her bangs out of her hair, slipping her shoes off and leaving them at the door. "Dad! I'm back!" she called out into their too big of a house for just two people as she sauntered through the large dark living room, and into the next room. _

_What stopped her in her tracks was the sight she interrupted. In her kitchen were Derek Hale and her father… smiling.. and… being cordial._

_Her suspicion rose tenfold, raising an eyebrow as her ponytail flipped forward, regarding her father with an incredulous look. "What's… going on?" she asked, taking out only one earpiece as she blinked slowly._

_"I had something of Derek's that I thought he might want back. Something from his childhood. Not to mention, we both have something very much in common at the moment," he explained calmly._

_"And that it?" she asked cautiously, taking a few steps forward as she paused her music and pulled both headphones out of her ears now, attention on both of them._

_"We both want your grandfather dead," Derek said in his unwavering tone that chilled her to the bone. _

_Allison swallowed thickly and nodded, looking down. "I'm sorry he got to me. I'm sorry I... I just… I didn't…" she started, fidgeting with her nails as she sighed, breath coming out choppily._

_"Don't," the imposing man said, putting a hand up. "It… wasn't his first time manipulating female family members. He's particularly good at it."_

_Allison peeked up and saw the pain flicker in his eyes quickly, barely catching it as his expression turned blank once more. Why did he have to be so reserved? So closed off? Tilting her head to the side, she narrowed her eyes._

_"My aunt told me about you… You really loved her… didn't you?" she whispered, ignoring how tense her father got at the mention of his late sister._

_Derek's nostrils flared and jaw set, and she noticed the discomfort as his chest puffed out, but he still nodded. "Yes," he answered gruffly, after a prolonged moment, and she almost thought that's where he would leave it at. Maybe she crossed a line with him. But he wouldn't hurt her here, right? Of all places? "And we all saw where that ended up."_

_The added on comment was quick, his low grumble making her shiver yet again. Void any other comment to her, he turned back to her dad. "Chris," he said softly with a nod. "I'll be seeing you."_

_And without further notice, he was out of the kitchen, brushing past her and through the front door, hearing the telltale slam of the front door. Allison could only stand there, shell-shocked and taking it all in as the minutes ticked by. Her lips pursed as her father just stared at her with a pained expression, waiting for her to speak._

_"Okay what the _heck_ just happened here?" she said dangerously, eyes like daggers as she pointed at the door angrily._

_"Allison. Now, I want you to promise me that you're going to be tight lipped about this. Even to your little friends. The last thing we need is Gerard finding out we've actively teamed up with Derek. And don't give me that look. You trusted him at one point. Scott trusts him. What's so wrong with me trusting him now?" Chris said evenly, setting down his glass of scotch on the counter._

_The mention of Scott disarmed her. Damn her father and her ability to do that. Clearing her throat, she crossed her arms and walked into the kitchen further. "It's.. It's not that… I promise, I just. I'm surprised he doesn't hate you… Especially after all that's happened," she said softly, putting her hands on the island in the middle of the kitchen area._

_"I explained that I was never for that. He's heard what I've said. He knows where I stand and I never agreed with what your aunt did. Not for a second," the man replied after sighing, biting his lip and tapping his glass a few times with his finger. "So he's going to be around. More often than not. Maybe we could learn from each other. Who knows." The man shrugged lightly and shook his head, taking another sip from his drink as he set it back down on the counter. _

_It was true. Derek based his decisions on instinct. Primal logic, it came from his werewolf instinct, she was sure. He was very smart and cunning. But her father was more calculated in that respect, even though he did listen to his heart or what he felt was wrong or right. Allison nodded after thinking it through, finally agreeing to it and smiling up at him gently. _

_Little did she know how well she and Derek would actually get along. That big protective brother she never had a chance to get. There were moments though… Fleeting moments where she swore he would look at her for a little too long._

_Almost like he was looking within Allison for the young girl that betrayed him… The young girl that he had fallen for so many years ago._

_Maybe she could convince him that not all the Argents were soulless murders._

_Maybe._

* * *

"We need a better plan, Deucalion. This isn't going to work. Excelsior is far cleverer than that and you know it," said the tall brunette, chiseled features still alarmingly sharp even in the dimmed light of the hidden cave.

Snarling, he glared up at the woman. "QUIET!" he roared, exposing his canine teeth as he slammed his fist on the metal table of their underground hideaway. "I don't need your insolence, Kali! Nor do I need you breathing down my neck with obvious indiscretions in our plans. If you have such brilliant ideas, why don't you let us know, hm? Why don't you share it with the entire pack, my love?" the equally tall, if not taller, well built yet lean and dark man continued, looming over her as his eyes glittered a deep purple.

The pale olive toned male sitting in the corner finally uncrossed his legs and scoffed, rolling his eyes as he did so. "Will married couple please be still? We have spirit to find and hoan for ourselves, you stupid cretins. Can we get on wit it?" he drawled in his Ukrainian accent, sneering at both of them in disgust as he ran his hands through his hair.

For him, he never really understood the concept of an Alpha pack. Too many dominant characters. Never got anything done and _someone _always fought for the power. Especially Kali and Deu. It was preposterous. But he was new, so he didn't want to push it _all _too much.

"Shut up, Andrew. No one asked you," Deu said to him and the foreigner felt his claws attempt to burst out.

_Not my name._

Calming himself, he kept them retracted. Instead, he smiled and, putting a hand up, he pardoned himself, scratching his nose as he sat back. "Not problem. Please, Kali. Say words. Before Ennis and twins come back from punishing captives and we can tell them with clear precision what want them to be done," the foreign man said gently, his eyes sparking as they looked at her.

Smiling with those dazzling bright white teeth, canines glistening, she giggled lightly, curls falling into her face. "Thank you, _Andriy,_" she said pointedly, looking in his direction and winking. Oh yes, he liked for a reason, smiling widely back at her as Deu crossed his arms defensively.

Tension in the pack was never nice, but it definitely kept things interesting, that was for sure, he resigned, smirking smugly over at Deu.

* * *

It wasn't that Derek didn't know, or couldn't think of something for the boy. Quite the opposite really. Did he want to risk telling him his hunches when he didn't have all the answers yet? No. Of course not. And yet, Derek was an interesting fellow. Not that he'd ever admit it, but he usually never really had a plan. There were routines, and schedules he liked to tend to, always someone that had a follow through. But. Never plans.

Plans were for people that didn't know what they were doing. That didn't have instinct or couldn't read people. Derek lived in the now, in his present. And right now, as he walked in the woods of his old house, he looked out into the cold March day.

Hands in the pockets of his jean jacket, this was the only place he truly felt at peace. Where he didn't feel like he had to be anyone or anything that he wasn't. Or live up to or play down any stigmas with his damned name and exterior, being judged by every person that walked by him. This was his sanctuary, not that he'd ever admit it aloud. But here, after his house being burnt down… Here he was able to find a home, pulling out a small box with a name on it from his inside coat pocket.

It was a tin box. A nice one that he'd gotten her a while back. A long while back. And he had yet to open it after it was returned to him a few months prior from an unexpected new friend. Finding his regular stump where he sat on, he headed toward it and took a seat, resting back and tapping the sides of the little container.

Much wasn't left of his childhood. Not much at all, just little scrapings of charred pieces of papers here and there. Opening this would mean… A lot. Yet the likelihood of something in there being about him was slim to none. Eyeing it, he brought it to his nose, sniffing it lightly. It had the faintest little trace of her scent of her. Vanilla, sandlewood, gun polish, and peppermint. And something that was just very much. Her. Mixed in with lingering scents of others he cared not to reflect on, bringing the tin down slowly to his lap.

"Chilly, isn't it?" a familiar voice came from behind him, stilling his hands as he covered the golden painted name that was scrawled on the old tattered dark red tin box. _Katelyn Argent._

"I thought you were in hiding," Derek responded cooly, jarred by the sudden interruption as his muscles tensed and his eyes narrowed at nothing in particular.

Shrugging and coming up from behind him, the handsome elder looking up into the sky and then down at the seated Alpha tending to his broken heart. "Eh, well. I was feeling a bit more adventurous today. Can't blame me for getting tired of being cooped up all day," he allowed himself, smiling lightly. "What you got there, kid?"

Derek let his eyes rest on his uncle for a moment, craning his neck to look up at him before standing and pocketing the box in his jacket once more, the leaves crunching under his feet as he began his trek back to the house.

"She loved you, you know," Peter said quite plainly, leaning on a tree as he let his head fall to the side, observing Derek stalk away. Such the dramatic fellow, he assessed.

That comment made Derek stop in his tracks, the muscles in his back rippling and eyes set in that brilliant blood red as he turned to regard him, the whistling of the wind blowing gently against Derek's face, ultimately soothing him and keeping his heartbeat calm. "Excuse me?" he growled his lowest register.

"She thought you'd be in school, like Laura," he said, shrugging as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world to say.

"You don't get to say that. You're the one that _killed _her," he said through bared teeth, nostrils flaring as he breathed out, reining it all in, that soft caressing of tree branches swishing in the wind and the sound of scattering leaves bringing him back down from his temper as closed his eyes. "No. She didn't. She didn't know what love was. Love entails feeling. The only thing she knew how to feel was hate."

"Well doesn't that sound familiar?" his uncle retorted softly, raising an eyebrow as he walked a few paces forward and tapping the pocket with the box in it. "I'd hold off on opening that for a while," he whispered, patting Derek's chest as he walked on passed him, arms behind his back and his head held high as he did so.

Looking down at his chest, the younger werewolf pulled out the box and swore at himself. It wasn't that he still wanted her. It wasn't even that he wanted revenge or wanted to be the one that killed her either. No. What he hated most was that he'd never saw it coming, an anger unto himself that he was so blindly in love that he forwent his instinct. She played the damn part so well. Or maybe she didn't though. Maybe he just wanted so desperately to believe that someone could love somebody like him. That was what hurt the most. And yet that's all it was to her. An acting job. Nothing more, nothing less. And he'd prove that, the need to know rushing through him.

Gripping the lid, he made to open it, but that soft breeze brushed against his face. And once again his actions were still as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Did he really want to know just yet? No. He needed to stay focused. The Alphas were just around the corner. This was not the time, nor the place.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded at himself and tucked the long thin box back in his pocket for safekeeping, following his uncle back into the house.

It was time for his nightly rounds on his pack anyway.

* * *

Stiles was in his room, twirling his pencil in his hand as he leaned back in his chair. The majority of his homework was already zoomed through, surprisingly as he just stared at the ceiling. Scott had been with him the majority of the day, and when the werekid wasn't with him, he was with Allison.

That still didn't make sense to him. The interaction that had passed through Derek and Allison, furrowing his eyebrows at the thought of it, left him uneasy. Another puzzle he wanted to figure out, another code yet to crack.

"Hey bucko, someone's here for you," came a voice from behind him, snapping him out of his thoughts and bringing him down to his feet as the seat wobbled down.

Smiling at his dad, he waved at him and tossed his pencil on the desk. "Cool. Who? Scott?" he asked, getting up and walking to the door.

"Uh. No, actually. It's.. Uh. Someone else," he mumbled awkwardly, darting his eyes back and forth from his son and down the hallway and down the stairs.

'_Lydia?_' Stiles mouthed, sniffing himself quickly to make sure he was presentable and scrambling up. Running to the mirror as he fixed his hair up, checking himself over as he doubled back to his father.

"Uh, no it's um—" Mr. Stilinski struggled to get speak, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. Hm, that's probably where he got it from, Stiles quietly thought to himself in the back of his mind.

Without a hint of hearing footsteps, an "It's me," came from behind the elder man, Jackson pushing past the sheriff and into the room, obviously not happy about being there as he slung his backpack off and threw it on the ground, flopping into the bean bag chair Stiles had as he turned to back to Stiles' dad. "You can go now," he said, waving him off.

The elder man just looked at Jackson for a moment and then back at Stiles, giving him a raised eyebrow as he left his son's doorway and closed the door behind him.

Blinking a few times, Stiles put his hand on his hip and opened his mouth. But before he could even speak, the other handsome boy shot him a bored glaring look.

"Shut up, I'm not here out of my own will. Derek's with Allison. Scott's with Lydia. It's like he doesn't think we can't be in a room and not suck face or something," Jackson began, scoffing and rolling his eyes. "And I mean can he blame me. Look at me. Look at Lydia. That's what attractive people do. I don't know what Allison and Scott do in their spare time, and I don't really want to find out."

Shaking his head, he leaned back in the makeshift chair as Stiles just nodded, a myriad of different emotions ran through him. Annoyance, tolerance, exasperation, and just plain awkwardness as he sat down and put his hands to his lips, thinking of an appropriate answer.

"Well. Let's just get a few questions answered, then, shall we? I take it Derek wanted a wolfie paired with a human of the pack. Did he say why at all other than we've got some crazy ass bitches after us,"

"No, that was pretty much it. We're stronger in at least pairs or whatever. That's what he said," the boy gruffed, shrugging his shoulder. "And he couldn't trust anything to go wrong, just in case something _does _happen, but seriously doubt that's going to happen," he continued, stretching out and picking the miniscule amount of dirt under his nails as he made a face. "You and Scott would probably go and fuck something up, as usual, so he paired me with you. Not to mention Scott doesn't trust me around Allison. As if I'm _actually _interested. I just tend to get bored easily."

Turning, the boy smiled smugly over at Stiles and it made bile rise up in his stomach, wanting so badly to roll his eyes but he refrained. He was laying it on thick, the douche. It made Stiles almost miss the nervous jangling of Jackson's leg. The excessive cruelty in which he was exhibiting. Almost. Furrowing his eyebrows, he thought, Why now put up such bravado when no threats whatsoever are around? Maybe he was just pissed that he had to do this instead of getting to spend time with Lydia. If he was in his position, he'd pick Lydia over himself any day. All of this deliberation really only took a moment though, really. Licking his lips and sighing, he stored the information away for later though, shaking his head as he grabbed his notebook for his notes.

"Look. I dunno how long you're gonna be around, dude. So I'm just gonna start my homework cuz I have an ass-ton to do. Do you want any soda or something?" Stiles asked after a moment, clicking away at his computer to bring up the online assignment, and looking back at him expectantly.

The gesture made Jackson's empty smile falter. Furrowing his own eyebrows, he blinked a few times and nodded, clearing his throat. A snarky Stiles comment was what he was armed for. His witty comeback. Not… whatever this was. "Uh. Sure," he said uneasily, pulling out his own things from his backpack.

It was a good thing he had, too. Grueling amount of homework and he'd barely made any dent in it with all this Alpha pack bull in the way. Flipping his text book, he nodded curtly at Stiles who reached back and opened a minifridge.

"Alright. I've got Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, Sierra Mist, Mountain Dew, PowerAde-" he listed off as he looked into the little fridge.

"Powerade's good," Jackson interrupted, rubbing his nose with his hand awkwardly as he waited, looking around the room, only to recommence watching the boy lean further back in his chair as he grabbed the blue beverage and tossed it over his way.

Catching it, he muttered his thanks and Stiles just grabbed a Mountain Dew himself, turning and twisting it open. "To… Not getting ripped to shreds this year."

"That's a great image," Jackson replied a disgusted grimace.

"Cheers!" Stiles replied happily and drank, gulping down twice and releasing it with a satisfied '_ahhhh!'._

As for Jackson, he took his own more modest sip and recapped it, setting it down.

Shifting in his chair, he looked down at his book and began his homework. Glancing up at Stiles, the boy was doing his work diligently.

"You do homework?" he asked after a second, raising an eyebrow, his jaw clenching slightly as he spoke.

Stiles rolled his eyes and let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, well there's a lot about me that you don't know now is there. But yes, I do. At least when blood thirsty mythical creatures aren't out to kill me or my friends. And if you didn't realize, that was kinda you a few weeks ago. So sorry if I'm a bit snappy."

Nostrils flared, Jackson looked away and tried to calm himself down, feeling the anger coursing through him like battery acid. Stiles slumped back regrettably and chewed on the inside of his lip. "Sorry. I just—"

"You don't trust me. None of you do," he let out in a dark tone, a blue glint shining in his eyes as his knuckles whitened in frustration, his chest heaving as he tried to stay calm.

"Well can you blame me? I don't know anything about you, dude. Yeah, you're Jackson. You have cool things. Your parents have money. But who are you?" Stiles said after a second, and gulped as the other boy turned to him with blank eyes, blinking once sternly before looking down, brow furrowed.

"I dunno," he muttered, letting the words slip out of his freckled lips. The gravity of the confession made Stiles ease considerably, blinking a few times himself. Maybe they had more In common than he thought. And he supposed it would do. For now…

And as Jackson looked back up at Stiles, there was almost an understanding as the boy gave him a slight nod. A sense of relief was lifted off his shoulders for some reason as he resumed his homework.

It was the most honest Jackson had ever been with himself thus far.


End file.
